


The Forest is a Quiet Place to Hide

by Awkwardstranger98, Otter_Eggs



Category: Creepypasta - Fandom, Everyman HYBRID, Marble Hornets, Ticci Toby - Fandom
Genre: Cliffhangers, Crossover, Cryptids, Everyone Is Alive, Forest spirit skully, HABIT hates everyone really, HABIT is a supportive murderous asshole who encourages bad behaviour from the new kid, Jay is Skully, Jeff the killer is not hot, Kinda, Multi, Operator is an ass, Other, Serial killers are not romanticized, Skully is a weird feral father figure, Skully is tired of everyones bullcrap, Slenderman is an ass, Temporary Amnesia, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, Ticci Toby is not a creepypasta, Tim is confused, binary code used, brian is confused, cryptic? yeah, feral forest cryptids, kinda sad, mental illness is treated hopefully respectfully, sorta - Freeform, team fuck Slenderman/operator is growing slowly, totheark - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-22
Updated: 2020-05-22
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:33:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24318112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Awkwardstranger98/pseuds/Awkwardstranger98, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Otter_Eggs/pseuds/Otter_Eggs
Summary: Tim and Brian are no longer Tim and Brian. Those fleeting memories wiped from their minds by the influence of The Operator after the events of Marble Hornets. Living in a house filled with serial killers and pushed to their brink, what can they do but suffer in silence?The woods are quiet, but its inhabitants grow restless. totheark posts for the first time in years, a cryptic message pushing the events of Marble hornets back into the public eye. Skully find solace in a friend, yet cannot find peace in the deep purgatory they are trapped in.HABIT is tired of having to deal with the stick in the mud.┈ ┈ ⋞ 〈 ⦻ 〉 ⋟ ┈ ┈ALL TOTHEARK CHAPTERS WILL HAVE A VIDEO ATTACHED, recommend u turn on subtitles ;)Ticci Toby is considered a separate entity to Creepypasta in this work due to the Author's intent to separate the story from Creepypasta.
Relationships: Minor or Background Relationship(s), previous relationships mentioned in passing
Comments: 5
Kudos: 42





	1. RETURN

**Author's Note:**

> VIDEO TO GO ALONG WITH THIS CHAPTER, TURN ON SUBTITLES  
> https://youtu.be/gzxWbyaepvc

Fizz. Crackle. Pop. A video blinks to life.

The scene opens to a clearing surrounded by forest. The large pine trees stand tall and ominous; as if they were not trees but tall appendages that protrude from the ground and reach for the unforgiving black sky. The moon glows like a light bulb in the heavily edited film. The trees wave towards it, as if dancing to an unheard tune. The world flickers as if it was in an old film. The stars blink in the sky. The world is strange, painted in a soft light that seems to not reflect on the trees. The trees seem to gobble up light like an abyss of cold, black darkness.

White text appears on screen at intervals that seem to not follow a pattern.

01110111 01100101 00100000 01100001 01110010 01100101 00100000 01100010 01100001 01100011 01101011 

A pause. The scene changes in a flash of frames showing a deep river in which a skull mask bobs, quickly overtaken by a fire engulfing a home rapidly. Sirens are heard in the background like wailing banshees in the night.

01110111 01100101 00100000 01101000 01100001 01110110 01100101 00100000 01100011 01101000 01100001 01101110 01100111 01100101 01100100 

Another pause, this time longer. Showing a tree being cut down by an unseen force in a janky stop motion attempt. 

01100101 01110110 01101111 01101100 01101111 01110110 01100101 01100100 

The video cuts as the tree hits the ground, fading into black.

Return.


	2. Smoke and Static

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim is confused.

His eyes open, soft light blinding him momentarily. Tim blinks away sleep from his eyes. His sleep was as restless as usual. Plagued by the feeling of unease characterized by the surroundings he lived in. Constant fear of the other inhabitants of the house enhanced by the musky smell of decay that seemed to permeate form the wood floors. Tim knew where the smell came from, and did his best to ignore it. However the visceral smell of human decay was often impossible to block out. He let his eyes fall shut again, blocking out the sounds of screaming from down the hall. He was not the only one who had trouble sleeping in the house, far from it. However he was blessed with a lack of memories that allowed his sleep to not be haunted by a morbid past; only by the macabre present.

Tim really did not have an option, he decided. He slid out of bed, standing up and retrieving a hopefully clean shirt from the floor and pulling it over his head. It only took him a few moments to get dressed and grab the old mask from the dresser. It was routine, something he had carried on since he could recall. 

Something was different today, perhaps, because Tim’s eyes lingered on the mask for a moment longer than usual. Hesitation for only a moment broke the strict routine the man had established. However, this only lasted a moment. A moment that upon reflection Tim would find strange. Not strange enough to talk to anyone about though.

The day continued as normal, walking down the creaky halls that smelled of mildew and rust. Hearing the sounds of the other occupants of the house. Tim walked down the stairs, drawing a cigarette from the inner pocket of his jacket. His only solace in the foreboding house found its way to his mouth, the mask he wore pushed up slightly to reveal chapped lips and a beard. He took a long drag of the cigarette, leaning against the banister. Smoke filled his lungs and a calm washed over his anxious body. He found safety in the euphoria of dopamine filling his brain and drowning out any worries he may have had. The smoke leaves his lungs in an exhale that carries his worries along with it.

Tim continues downwards, entering the foyer quietly. Passing rooms and doors to places even he has never been to reach the kitchen. His body is moving in a manner that is reminiscent of a zombie, following a pattern and path he has many times before. He does not need to think, what would the point in that be? It would only expose him to the dangers that this house held to the mental health of any individual that lived there. Tim slides into a seat, finishing his cigarette and pushing it out on the tablecloth. He pulls the mask over his face again, a feeling of safety overcoming him. Masks protected, kept the wearer safe from identification. His eyes drifted to his silent companion across the table.

Brian sat, his hands laying on the table and the eyes of his cloth mask piercing his skin and filling his mind. Brian was anxious. Something had happened last night. Something had changed. The atmosphere of the house was different, as if the beast was angry. It was not good when the beast was angry. Punishments happened when the beast was angry. Brian and Tim both knew hiding would not help, only delay and worsen the pain of the attacks. So they sat, eyes locked in a silent conversation in a language made for them. They were not the only individuals in the house however. And sometimes that can be a drag.

“The freaks are staring at each other again.” The nasly and rough voice of Jeff broke through their greeting. His voice was almost as revolting as his marred face, Tim thought. Turning his masked gaze to meet the monster next to him. Jeff was a being that Time despised being around. He smelled of decay and mirth more than the other beings in the house. He scrunched his nose under the mask. 

“What the fuck’s wrong leatherface, gonna say something about it?” Jeff laughed, a grating sound that filled the room like mucus and clung to his mind in a way Tim didn't like. He turned his head back to Brian, tilting his head and again speaking in their language. It was time to leave. No use in causing bloodshed and possibly losing the other. They were each other's protectors, their own gatekeepers and shields. Where one went, the other did too. It was common knowledge not to separate Tim and Brian in any way lest you face the wrath of the metal bar Brian used as a weapon.

It seemed that today however would be different. A thick blanket of static filled the room, coating Tim in a layer of unease and fear. He was whisked away from the table in a rush of static and water. Tim fell to the forest floor. His hands meeting brown leaves and dry dirt. He coughed, the sound sending shock waves throughout his system. His mind whirled in circles as he stood, dizzy and confused. The only instructions in his mind yelled in his brain in the way only the beast was capable of.

Find them. Find totheark.

**Author's Note:**

> I will neither confirm or deny theories.


End file.
